


at the end of the day (i'll come back to you)

by Kcnvrmnd



Series: venusverse [1]
Category: Creed - Fandom, Rocky Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, and a storyline, creedverse au, i'm rewriting the movie, or making my own?, there's porn here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-10 21:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17433611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kcnvrmnd/pseuds/Kcnvrmnd
Summary: the night before? she can't recall. remembering an entire relationship? well, maybe, with a little help...creedverse au. i own venus & juanita, i'm just borrowing donnie and co. also posted on tumblr. angsty. explicit. enjoy.





	1. / 1 - wyd

**Author's Note:**

> reposting this from tumblr. i'm excited to write again. only some canon events apply. thanks for clicking.

/1 

Whoever invented buzzers was a fucking asshole.

For the last two minutes, a non-stop staticy buzz rang through the loft that housed Venus Carter. It reverberated off of the brick walls into one long buzzing sound that wasn’t helping  _ anything  _ right now. It sounds too much like an alarm in the dark, blackout curtain assisted bedroom, and it makes her head spin a little as the little lines of sunshine that fight to fill more than just slices on the floor put everything into perspective for just a second.

It’s morning now. Last night, from the jibberish staring back at her as notifications on her phone as she pulled it from underneath her pillow, she was definitely more drunk than she usually allowed herself to be. The inquiries from her followers lets her know that she was  _ definitely  _ on one last night. She’d love to open her phone and try to figure out what was going on, but she can’t. 

Not yet, anyway.

The buzzing is the only reason she’s up, really.

**“Ughhhh…. Fuck, okay, I’m coming.”** Venus whined pitifully as she pulled her body up from her bed, and jabbed her fingertips into her eye sockets. 

She pressed her fingers there for only a second, but it’s enough to see dots of color when she pulled back. Small feet with black and blue glittery toes stuffed into Nike slides and her hands reflexively snatched down a purple and black ombre robe as she walked the long walk to the front door, all while cursing the fact that this loft had floor to ceiling windows that wouldn’t dare allow her to miss out on the sunlight.

Usually, she wouldn’t complain, but right now, it just needed to be dark. The darker, the better, actually. She felt like shit. She felt  _ horrible,  _ and promised herself that she would  _ never  _ fucking drink liquor  _ again.  _

It was eleven AM in Brooklyn, and Venus had a hangover. Like, a  _ bad  _ ass hangover, one that not even a Postmates delivery of Gatorade and Chinese that she was still drunk when she yelled for Alexa to arrange could help with. She still shuffled across the floor and sighed softly as she finally opened the door, and winced at the sight of the sunlight that was determined to break in through the front door.

The guy standing in front of the door pulled his finger away from the buzzer and stared at her. 

**“Here’s your hangover cure.”** She was still wincing as the bag was thrust into her hands without much else being said. 

She silently thanks him for his patience. There was a look of understanding that passed, and a nod from the driver as he walked back to the sidewalk. He looked like he knew her, or understood her struggle. Most likely both, from the way it lingered. She just shrugged it off and served him her back.

Venus cursed softly as she closed the door behind her, shutting out the bright sunlight, and going back into the inescapable brightness of her living room. She slumped down on her couch and groaned before opening her bag, and pulling out a carton of chicken fried rice and a bag of egg rolls.

The grease probably wasn’t going to help her general overall feel, really. She would try to convince herself that it would, though. After a few minutes in cherished silence, she was killing her carton of rice with the occasional chew of the still hot egg roll without a care in the world. Everything was going good until she realized she hadn’t touched her phone since she got up.

She still had to put two and two together, still needed to recount how the  _ fuck  _ she ended up so drunk to where she was suffering from a massive hangover. Her phone buzzed across the living room table as she stared at it, and caught it before it fell. 

_ 215-667-8890: Wyd _ ?

Her nostrils flared in annoyance as she glimpsed at the message on the lock screen, which came from an unsaved number with a 215 area code. Who did she know from Philly?

Her tongue rolled around her lips as she pulled herself up to sit up straight, and pressed her lips together as she unlocked the phone. It wasn't unlikely for someone to text her out of the blue; she’d had the same number since she was thirteen years old. But, she couldn’t recall giving anyone from Philly her number, or giving her number out at all, really.

She tried to think - was it work related? An internet friend, maybe? Someone from Plenty Of Fish, even though she’d deleted that app  _ months  _ ago? Did Juju give her number out again to some nigga she didn’t want to talk to? Curiosity was getting the best of her as no person in particular seemed to jump out at her. She decided to text back anyway.

_ Just woke up. Fighting a Hangover. Who is this? _

The phone hiccuped as the message was sent, and the bubble was blue, which made her eyebrows raise. If she didn’t get an answer within the next couple of texts, she was definitely going to  _ accidentally  _ facetime the number to see who answered.

Venus wet her lips as she leaned over to the side of the couch and grabbed the forgotten, room temperature bottle of Glacier Cherry Gatorade and drank from it as if she had been lost in the desert. She nearly choked when the phone pinged back with a response.

_ 215-667-8890: Nobody told you to do a waterfall of Don Julio like you're a big dog, V. _

Oh, so this person knew her name? That made her head tilt a little as she switched away from the Messages app, and went straight to Snapchat. She immediately opened up the snapchat thread between her and her cousin, her best friend, and sent several eye emojis before she started to snap.

Vdotcarter:  _ Juanita, who in the fuck did you give my number to? _

**“Fuck did I do last night?”** She questioned the empty room as she looked around and tried to get any reminder of how last night went.

It was just as clean as she recalled working hard to pull off, with no trash around the room, no mess littering the table, or even her clothes or shoes lingering in the doorway, where she’d usually strip as soon as she got in the house. Juanita’s message of “GO HARD, OR TAKE YOUR ASS HOME!” from like three weekends ago was still up there on her dry erase board, and there hadn’t been any new pictures pinned up to the corkboard square of memories that stuck out to her either, so what the  _ fuck  _ did she do last night?

Her honey brown eyes scanned the room again as she wedged her tongue in her cheek, almost annoyed by her lack of memories. It had been that way after drinking since  _ that night in Vegas,  _ but, it never took  _ this long  _ to flood back into her head. If Juanita knew what had gone down, she definitely wasn’t fuckin’ helping, not telling her what was up.

She scanned the room again, past title momementos, old UFC promotions, newspaper clippings, and still, there was  _ nothing  _ that jumped out to her _. _ She might have gotten drunk, but as she looked down at her fingers and hands, she knew she didn’t beat anyone’s ass, so, maybe that was a good thing. 

Everything seemed the same, really. It didn’t smell any different, and there was nothing that really stuck out to her, until she took a look over at the ottoman she had arranged on the other side of the living room set up. There was a white, long sleeved thermal, with a little rip in the neck area. She tilted her head at it, and stood up, walking over to it. She picked it up and inhaled it, but  _ knew  _ it didn’t belong to her, yet smelled too familiar for her to admit as to who it did. 

**“Motherfucker…”** She looked around, now looking for things that  _ didn’t  _ belong to her. 

Masculine things. Little things. Like the sparring gloves hanging next to hers, bigger, red. Not her color. An extra water bottle, with an obnoxious, star spangled meshing around it. There was also a diamond link chain that hung almost ominously over one of the taller cat statues that rested over her TV that she  _ knew  _ didn’t belong to her.

**“Fuck.”** She sucked her teeth, not wanting it to be him, but knowing it was.

Now, it was just a matter of confirmation.

Her phone was still idle in her hand, and she tapped at the screen and glanced back down at her snapchat feed, and flicked through the stories. Instead of trying to tap on anything that stuck out to her, Venus opted back to her own story, and watched through slightly drawn eyes as she relived her entire night. 

In the span of a few minutes, she saw herself going through the motions of locking up at the gym, or at least, the departure from her building to her car in the parking lot. There wasn’t much there, but she remembered the sparring session. She remembered kicking ass, and talking shit the entire time. She didn’t need that to be recorded to know that. 

Then, she was driving, debating if she wanted to go out, ‘cause she hadn’t in a _while,_ and _then,_ she was home, pregaming with shots of tequila and doing lip-sync karaoke to songs from the early ‘00s. She was cursing out Juanita for not wanting to come out with her, and the rest of the snaps went like a quick, but familiar blur. 

The phone buzzes again, and she doesn’t hesitate to switch screens to get back to her inbox.

_ 215-667-8890: why didn’t you save my number? _

Her response is immediate.

_ Because I don’t know who this is?? _

If she was being honest with herself, it was literally only two people. Maybe it was Tony, who came with Adonis when he made the move from Philly to Brooklyn. But, Adonis had been claimed, fucked her cousin on the regular before they broke up, and spent the majority of the time acting like he didn’t miss his shot, shooting for the wrong cousin. Tony was just there for the ride, interested in the girl who could fight, even determined enough to ensure that she still could after almost losing everything a year back.

Thinking emojis follow, and seconds later, a video pops up in response. She doesn’t hesitate to play it. Her eyebrows raised as she watched herself do exactly what she had been accused of earlier. 

A large triangular bottle of Don Julio that she knew went for about $150 was being poured into her mouth with reckless abandon, and her eyes narrowed as she watched herself drink until she needed to pull away. After she threw her head back from the tequila stream, the phone shook with hoots and hollering, and the camera rotated to a smiling face, complete with bottom and top golds that made her curse softly.

She knew Adonis when she saw him, and she knew that  _ this?  _ Was no good.

**“Oh Venus, you dumb bitch.”** She cursed softly as she covered her mouth with her hands, tenting her hands as she groaned into them, but she couldn’t stifle the sound.

She went back to her snapstory with determination to figure something out. There was an appearance by Tony, who she sang loudly to, and took some shots with, and then later, Donnie was there, pipin’ it up for a second before slinging his arm around her, and pulling her into him. When the bottle of Don Julio was brought over by the bottle girl, V knew it went downhill after that shit.

Venus remembered  _ some of this;  _ she remembered getting dressed and leaving in an uber, heading to a club. She remembered saying,  _ “fuck it,”  _ and getting ready to go have some fun. After Donnie made that ignorant ass purchase though, shit got blurry after that. There was a lot of shots taken, captions that were incoherent, and a bunch of black screen requests, until they just  _ stopped.  _ She shook her head.

The phone hiccuped again. More video came from the unsaved number, this time, explicit at that. There was her hair wrapped around a fist, and her mouth was way too filled to do anything else than take what was being fed to her. She felt a familiar tug on her scalp and hissed. Shit. 

Shit.

Donnie  _ loved  _ doing that shit, trying to get a rise out of her. He always had, since they first met, and he asked if it was real, ‘cause it was long, and stupid for her to have long hair, when all bitches knew how to do in a fight was go right for it. They flirted like that. For  _ years.  _

But, all of that skirting around? It was a waste of time. She knew eventually they would stop bullshitting, but she wanted to fucking remember  _ all of it.  _ She sat her phone down and threw her head back against the couch cushions as she cursed again, in partial disbelief as to what she saw.

_ 215-667-8890: We’re not going to fuck around with details just yet. It’ll come back to you. _

_ 215-667-8890: It might not jump right out to you, but, it will. Save my number, Venus. _

She had no idea how she was going to explain how she slept with her cousin’s ex-boyfriend, but she knew she needed to figure  _ something  _ out. She flattened her body against the couch and cursed softly as the need for chinese and gatorade turned into a long desire to curl up, and sleep it off.

She saved the number with her tongue wedged in her cheek, and her eyes darting back across the room, trying to figure out all of the  _ hows  _ and  _ whys,  _ and if there was more video that didn’t make Snapchat.. _.  _

_ Adonis: Since you’re acting like you don’t remember things, I promised you breakfast in the morning, and it’s not too late for french toast. Meet me at LB’s in twenty. Let’s talk about this. _


	2. / 2 - something cute

/2 

Venus was hungry. That was enough to get her up and get her going. 

The chicken fried rice she’d scarfed down earlier got digested like wafer crackers. She was definitely hungry as hell as she finally got off of the couch, so breakfast didn’t sound bad. Meeting up with Adonis wasn’t going to be anything good, and she knew it. 

_ Adonis: wear something cute, maybe we can take a walk or something after we eat... _

Venus blew out a long breath as she tried to figure out what all of this meant, honestly. It would get her out of the house, and that’s all that mattered. She needed that, alone anyway, because it wouldn’t be long before she had to face Juanita. She didn’t want to think about that right now though. 

Her mind was focused on a distraction, and this was definitely one way to accomplish that.

Venus kissed her teeth after re-reading the text, knowing it wasn’t a request, but a demand. She wasn’t going to respond, but knew he was doing her some good, luring her out in the daylight. She knew it would help recall things, which was good too. She needed to find something to latch on to, and she knew he always had something up his sleeve that did just that.

She was trying to reason with herself as she got off of the couch, and pulled open the curtains in her room as she walked into the center of it. The sunlight was still bright, but just not as intense. She figured she could go, she  _ would _ go, will, is, going, that was settled. But, if he wanted his shit, which she’s still finding in places she didn’t expect, or simply overlooked the first time, he’d have to come back here and get it for himself.

She attempts to convince herself the the only reason she's acting this way is because she deserves a redo, more than anything else. It was so  _ unfortunate  _ that her mind seem to just basically corrupt the memories of last night, because they had been bullshitting around when it came to being physical for a  _ while,  _ and she didn’t remember  _ shit _ . 

The short video clips she didn't send to her snap story didn't make matters better. They were all over each other in the back of an uber; his hand was actually weaving into her hair, and grazing her scalp while he licked at her neck until he pulled away and kissed her temples. It was more sentimental than explicit, and even while they were both visibly buzzed, a warmth filled her that made her lips turn up in a smile.

There was a whole video of the two of them lipsyncing to some  _ super old  _ Ace Hood, just holding hands, both matching the intensity of each other. They synced up like that;  _ that,  _ was instinctive. It was natural in a way that didn’t happen without the two of them realizing it, and smiling about it.

They just fit, in a way that she couldn’t put her finger on sometimes.

She wasn’t worried about being taken advantage of with Adonis, and that was probably the one thing that gave her hope about how her night went, even if she didn’t know any or most of the details. She knew that she wanted to have sex with him. They never had disagreed about it; they just never pushed for it to happen, despite how bad they both wanted it, considering…

She wasn't focused on hurting anyone's feelings, anyone talking shit, or  _ any of that  _ right now. She couldn't recall the last time she had good, really good sex, or got blackout drunk, either. Funny how the only person who usually didn't want to indulge in that kind of shit was the one to make sure she'd got all of that out of him as soon as they linked up.

The text thread under his Brooklyn based number, which was saved as Donnie in her contact information, had all of the tea. She had been wondering if he would come out, and once he did, she was on his ass until he stopped responding to her fuckery and just latched on to her hip. At some point he'd lost the phone, she realizes this now, or switched to the 215-line for whatever reason. The texts had stopped on the Brooklyn line and resumed later in the night on the other line; she doesn’t know  _ why  _ she just realized that.

Venus had time to sit and analyze everything now that she had trekked to the north side of Williamsburg from Crown Heights, just for him, and  _ still beat him  _ here.

Last night was still weighing heavy on her mind though. She was never heavy on drinking. She had her limits, always has, but on occasion, she was known to let her hair down and show up when she needed to. The entertainment business would keep her thoroughly entertained and even more thoroughly drunk off of whatever she wanted to endorse, so why not? The same for him. She knew damned well he was promoting that damned liquor, so no wonder he was going to be able to finesse more than just liquor courage out of her once she opened up.

Venus definitely saw more explicitness in her  _ my eyes only  _ section that made her shift her hips against the chair she was sitting in. She  _ knew  _ the sex was good, but she couldn't explain how she didn't  _ remember _ what she knew what was memorable as fuck. Just another side effect, she supposed.

Venus had showered, gotten dressed, and found herself staring blankly into a menu that she didn’t need fifteen minutes after she’d gotten the text to go. She hadn’t moved that quickly in a while, but she was  _ here,  _ and there was no turning back.

Once she heard the jingle of keys drop onto the table, and the second menu got picked up, her stomach flip flopped. She was never really  _ nervous  _ around him, but she knew it wasn’t impossible for the situation to make her feel that way. Venus’ eyes drew up and down slowly as she looked up into a face of mischief, gold teeth, and an all american pullover that she knew read  _ CREED  _ on the back.

**“You order yet?”** He asks, smirking. 

She was waiting on him, actually. Le Barricou ain’t cheap at all. There are daisies in a little mason jar on the table, and water in a green carafe, waiting to be poured. The menu is in French on the other side. Kamasi Washington is playing quietly in the background of things. It’s upscale, but casual. 

She has money of her own, but honestly, if he wanted to get her french toast, they could have just gone to Tom’s. The ceiling fan above them hovers and spins slowly, and distracts her from answering him. She doesn’t recall ever being  _ shy,  _ or silent when it comes to interacting with him. Today is just filled with a hesitant, uneasy vibe that she wishes she could stop maximizing. 

**“What do you want to go with your French Toast?”** He asks, sitting the menu back down.

**“Or are you going to just sit there and** **_not_ ** **look at me or talk to me?”** She’ll actually do anything  _ but  _ lock eyes with him, and she cuts her eyes as he calls her out on it. 

She opens her mouth to speak, but shuts it, and shakes her head softly. She’s thirsty now, and doesn’t know what to say to even get a conversation started. She’s still pulling her thoughts together, and wanting to look at her phone, watch the videos again, and interrogate the fuck out of him about the things she can’t recall. There are several rows of liquor backed up against a wall across the room, and her eyes cut to the bar, but the last thing she needs is another drink. 

There won’t be any mimosas today.

**“Duck hash. Orange juice, no mimosas.”** She rattled off as he chuckled, and caught her off guard as his hand extended to touch her face, and lift her chin up.

**“Quit being mean to me. Say hi, or something. Actually, stand up,”** He instructs, and she pushes away from the table instinctively. 

**“Bring it in, give me some love.”** His arms loop around hers as he pulls her into his chest, a little taller than her, but not too much. 

Her mumble of,  **“Hey, Donnie,”** gets trapped in his chest as she breathes him in, and he squeezes her tightly, and presses his lips against her forehead before she bats him away, immediately putting him in box mode. She sucks her teeth and waves him off as he laughs, and sits across from her again.

**“Whussup V? You good?”** He asked, eyebrow up. 

Venus got a good look at him and scoffed softly. She wanted last night to pour into her, really, but, it just  _ didn’t.  _ She pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose as she looked at him, taking in what she saw. He wasn’t smug, he wasn’t being an asshole, but he was sitting across from her, genuinely curious about her current state.

**“I’m good. I’m just… fighting my thoughts internally. Trying to piece shit back together. I really don’t know how to feel, other than confused as fuck, and a little bit annoyed. Jealous. I didn’t even know it was possible to be jealous of yourself.”** She shook her head softly, and he did as well, mirroring her actions.

There was so much she wanted to ask about, and maybe even yell about, but she just  _ couldn’t.  _ There was no point in flipping out or causing a scene, or anything to draw attention to the two of them, but she needed answers. Heads already turned when Adonis Creed walked into the room, and she had her fair share of looks when people pointed out Venus Carter, so, the last thing she needed was a  _ scene. _

What she did need though, was for him to fill in some blanks before she considered what was going to happen next. He sat a cell phone out on the table, not the same one she had recalled him having in the past, and her eyebrows went up at the sight of it.

**“You left Philly three years ago, whussup with the 215 bullshit?”**

It’s a cop out, but it’s a start. He gets eye contact, with her head tilted a little, and hands gesturing at the idle phone on the table.

**“It’s a burner.”** He shrugged, not elaborating. She decided to pour herself a glass of water, and cut her eyes back up at him.

**“You could have just told me that, asshole.”** She hissed with a little edge, and he didn’t look as out of place as he used to, sipping the water from the little flute after he pours it for himself.

**“About the Philly line? It’s just easier. I can talk to certain people… and won’t have to pull them into the shit I have going on in Brooklyn. I didn’t think it was going to fuck you up like that,”** He admitted as he licked his lips, and eyed her. 

**“But, you’re right, I should have said something. I apologize.”**

**“Your memory’s getting better though,”** He added, smiling.  **“I told you, you’ll be back in shape in no time.”**

Venus waved off his praising and tried not to smile at it. He locked eyes with her and sat back, slouching a little, instinctively giving into bad posture that she would usually tease him about, but she didn’t. They were avoiding the bigger situation that lingered over the two of them, and they both knew that too. 

She wanted to call him out for trying to distract her, but instead, she just sipped her water and slid her phone back across the table, with the thread open between the two of them.

**“I still can’t remember all of last night. So, I suggest that maaaaaybe, you start talking.”** She insists, and he runs his hand down the plane of his jaw before leaning in forward, and smirking.

**“I don’t know where to start, but I’m pretty sure that you know as well as I do that last night wasn’t a mistake,”** He starts, telling her what she wanted to hear. 

It’s the tone of his voice that makes her shift in her chair though. She knows he’s not bullshitting here. With that level of honesty between the two of them, she feels comfortable enough to just listen, and see where it’ll take her. 

**“We were both a little fucked up, but, we knew what we were doing. We were both rational enough to make that decision.”** There was no beating around the bush, acting coy, or denying what happened. She appreciated it that much, but  _ fuck.  _ She wanted to remember what happened, not just be spared the details.

**“You know we’ve been skirting around our feelings since Vegas. After the fight even.”** They rarely reference the accident, the one that pushed her out of the game for a minute. 

He pauses at he glances at her, waiting to see if he’s overstepped a boundary, or tripped anything, but she doesn’t respond. Venus just  _ looks  _ at him, hanging off of his every word. Her eyebrow goes up, and he keeps talking.

**“Even then there was still something. Right when we thought you'd lost everything… I knew you were still in there, fighting temptation, and the way I made you feel. You never had to say anything, ‘cause it was all in the way you looked.”** He pulls his phone out, the Brooklyn line, and after a few seconds, a video she knows well plays.

They were at Summerlin Hospital. She was in the bed, fully conscious, but definitely a little bit beat up still. Her right eye was puffy; her head still partially bandanged. It was fucking  _ bad.  _ But, while the wounds would heal within a few days, her memory would take a month to fully grasp again. Donnie was there, holding her hand, pulling her through the entire time.

**“Before you even started talking again, before the PT and the rehab, you knew me. You focused in on me, looked for me, before anyone else. Even Juanita, even before your parents. You’d look at me too long. Grip my hand too long. You'd avoid punching me when you finally got back into the right state of mind to start sparring again. You treated me more delicately than you used to, like whatever dream world you were in for just a few hours made you realize what you wanted deep down. We’ve been fighting our attraction to each other for too long.”**

She hates when things get intense like this between the two of them. It doesn’t happen that often, but when it does, she just  _ hates  _ it. He’s proactive with his feelings, whereas she, treads lightly. 

She has to admit, it’s admirable when a man knows what he wants, but for whatever reason, in the back of her mind, and sometimes, even in the front, the direct front, she fights matching the energy she knows she can put forth with this. It’s just a little too messy, too delicate to pull apart or attempt to make right without fucking it all up.

**“Last night was just… a fucked up, but good first date, honestly.”** Donnie shrugs, and Venus scoffs again as their drinks arrive, and her head shakes again at the word  _ date  _ as if that was just  _ it. _

**“A date? That I don’t remember at all, huh? You gon’ just claim it, just like that?”**

Instead of responding, he just shrugs, and flicks to another video on the phone on the table.

_ “If I wasn’t married, I’d still be tryna date and fail. I deserve a good night out though, I always wanted to go out and just get sooooo drunk, ion’ remember what’s up when I get up, but I know I had fun. I’m just glad I got somebody by my side who’ll help smooth that thang out, know what I’m talmbout? I always wanted a nigga who would take me to like Paris or somethin’, you know? I always wanted somebody who’ll… give me a full surprise on my birthday, with you know, a candlelit dinner, fire ass hotel room in like, Tennessee or something so we can get in good on the snow, I want… roses just because. I always wanted to be courted. Ion’ think niggas do that anymore, unless you’re lucky. You gon’ court me, even tho’ we already married?” _

**“You know, I'll never let you forget the fact that you thought we were married.”** He teases her as she rolls her eyes softly. 

Her face gets warm and she can’t vocalize that her stomach is literally flip-flopping, like it always does when he brings that up, with video receipts. It's been a minute since he's reminded her of that day; probably the only highlight out of the entire situation. 

And, for the record, she thought Juanita was her assistant, and she was like a second coming of Beyonce, so, he can honestly pull himself from whatever alternative universe she was in after suffering from head trauma and post-traumatic amnesia.

But, as devastating as that entire ordeal was, he was there for her through the whole thing.

Venus remembers how she came to, initially realizing what was going on. She’d been in a  _ bad  _ fight, had been assaulted, actually. The papers did a good job of not sparing any detail and pulling that back to her mind with vivid clarity.

There had been a coma - a few days, and then, she was up again. After the brief coma, she woke up looking for her  _ husband,  _ a husband that she did not have, but definitely had been identified as Adonis. He was there, sleeping in a chair, with his hands folded across his chest, slipping in and out of consciousness himself. His knuckles were still bruised, and his eye was still swollen. She could see the dried blood all over his shirt, and knew that little of it was his.

Donnie swiped the phone, with more videos to share. She didn’t need her memory jogged on this though; she knew  _ this  _ was just a way to butter her up, and get her to relax. She knew he was a good guy before anything else, but husband material?

The jury was still out on that one.

_ “Where is my husband? Nurse Marie, you seen em? He ‘bout, this tall? Probably has gold teeth in the bottom still? Looks like the ‘Merican flag threw up on ‘em? Angry for no reason, arms big as …. I SEE YOU, DAMNIT.”  _

Venus’ eyes rolled as he smiled at her, and when their eyes met, she was smiling too. She recalled that video, when she was finally stable enough to talk, and once she did, she wouldn’t shut up. He was hiding in hallway with takeout when she had got up, and recorded the whole thing from his vantage point against the wall. 

**“I need some more recent stuff,”** Venus insists as food arrives, giving them a second to pause.  **“Last night was really… something.”**

In retrospect, last night went exactly like she anticipated it to. Venus told herself that she deserved a night out. She deserved to get cute, no, fine as fuck, get fucked up, and go home and do things that she would possibly regret with someone who looked good enough to come back with her. 

Maybe. 

She doesn’t live life with many regrets, except for this one.

She also admitted to herself that she was drinking to forget, but she didn’t  _ need  _ to do that. Her memory is spotty at best. Like a forgetful ass blue tang fish, at times. It’s frustrating because she wants to remember what the fuck happened, honestly, it’s spotty. She knows it’s useless to be upset about it - this has been the reality for her for the last two years, with little breakthrough. 

It’s not  _ helping a fucking thing  _ that she doesn’t know what exactly she needs to do to trigger her memories to be easily recalled, and now she has to deal with it. It’s not impossible. She knows that, and Adonis does too. There has been many breakthroughs between the two of them, but sometimes, she just can’t recall things like she should be able to. Like she used to be able to.

The lingering after effects of  _ barely escaping _ brain damage and suffering through post traumatic amnesia wasn’t really  _ that  _ bad to live with, it just was… a difficulty. 

Venus wonders if her request went unheard as he tears into his super fluffy pancake and pushes the plate of lamb sausage that she wanted, but wouldn’t order, towards her. Spearing a link, her eyebrow goes up, silently anticipating him showing he something that she hasn’t seen before.

She’s not patient about it either, and he laughs.

**“You’re so damned antsy,”** He smiles, and then motions down at the giant pancake, which she shakes her head at.  **“Try the pancake. It’s good as hell, V.”**

A second later though, she does scoop a little of the strawberry butter onto a small piece and tries not to blush as he smiles at her.

**“You trust me, V. Never forget that. I won’t steer you wrong.”** Donnie insists, and somewhere near her heart, Venus knows it’s not a lie, or a line. It’s real.

**“I could go into my phone and pull up thousands of videos that prove my point when I say that you want me just as bad as I want you. History kinda tends to send me a good woman when I’m not looking for her, and in our situation, I looked the wrong way.”**

**“I know it’s going to be fucked up once it grows legs, but, I just… I want this. I feel like it’ll be good for you if I just… prove it to you. Gimme a chance to stay with you. A night, a weekend, whatever. I know it’s better now to secure the things I want and not let them slip away from me before it’s too late.”**

The conversation resonates with her as she just nods, no protest, and eats her food. Underneath the table, his foot bumps hers. She can’t recall ever seeing Adonis be as smooth as he is, but he is, it works for her, and then, she recalls a time, and smiles.

**“You weren’t smooth like this when we first started to flirt, but once you realized I was flirtin’ back, you kinda scared me,”** Venus spears a piece of potato, and he chuckles. 

At some point, they went from separate dishes to sharing, after he pushes the spring mix to a different plate, it’s a cohesive mesh of pancake and duck hash on both of their plates.

**“I used to think… he’s big as fuck. I’d ask Ju before we even knew you personally, like, you see his arms? You see how cut…”** They could be having this same conversation in several different places, with the two of them acting the same no matter where they were. 

**“That’s what does it for you? The arms?”** He flexed his muscles for a second as she bit down into her lip, and rolled her eyes softly.

**“Strong enough to lift you up, pick you up when you’re down…”** He finished off his water, and repoured it for the two of them as if it was an expensive bottle of wine. 

Venus exhaled. For a second, she damned near forgot that she was in public.

**“You remember, or you wanna see?”**

Her eyes go to his immediately.  **“Lemme see.”**

The bottled tension in her shoulders slipped away when he stood up, making an excuse to go to the restroom, but not before coming behind her chair, and gingerly massaging her shoulders as if she was about to head back into the ring. Venus’ head immediately dropped forward, and seconds later, picked back up to see the Brooklyn line on the table, with the videos section open.

**“And, before I come back, just know that it was your idea to record, by the way.”** He whispered gently, and her eyebrow went up as he pressed a kiss behind her ear, and served her nothing but back as he headed towards the restrooms.

She watched him the entire way, feeling familiarity overcome her like she hadn’t in a while.


	3. / 3 - ready

**/ 3**

He was holding back.

She knew he was holding back, because what she got to see seemed like it had been edited. The clips were progressive; she got to see his arrival at the club, him finding her, and him wrapping his arms around her, and not letting go. Her body shivered at the way it made her immediately react, and she knew she had to get herself together, and quick.

They were drinking, they were singing, they were _close,_ and it was like no one else mattered or existed around them. By the time they were drunk, she saw comfort take over. She saw familiarity get replaced with want, she knew she wanted him, and would tell him too. He laughed at a couple of things she said, trading her whispers with whispers of his own, and his hand never left the curve of her hip.

This wasn’t it, though. She knew it wasn’t.

It became spotty for a minute, and then they were in the uber and back out, and he was in the living room of her loft. He was comfortable. He looked like he was at home as he put on music, and pressed her back against the couch like he’d done it a thousand times before then.

Part of her was telling her that he had.

She flicked around a little bit more and remembered, yeah, this wasn’t new to them. She was reminded of a few weeks before, they had grandma slices and went to the park together. Saw a concert in the park. They had been dating, she realized. This wasn’t anything new.

 **“When you go through these episodes, the best thing to do is not to push everything on you at once, so you don’t get overwhelmed, but… you know. Like I said when I texted you earlier,  It might not jump right out to you, but, it will.”** Donnie insisted as he tipped the waitress for the two of them, and Venus nodded.

Slowly, but surely, the realization of the nature of their relationship was slowly coming back to her. She knew she wasn’t going to be lied to, but it also made sense for her not to just ask the thousands of questions that she was sure she already knew the answer to either. The truth laid within the black box inside of her mind that held all of the answers - the same one that had been temporarily crushed when she’d gotten drunk enough to black out the night before.

Venus placed the phone back down face down on the table as he raised his eyebrow at her, and she stood. She wasn’t going to watch the amateur porn until they got somewhere stable, as much as she wanted to. But, he wanted to take a walk, and she didn’t know how this was going to play out, but she was down for whatever.

She wanted to know what was up, though. She wanted to ask, but, she also didn’t want to press the issue. This felt nice, just… waking up and having someone to come right to, and be with. But, her mind was still reeling as memories seemed to just flood back in, casually reminding her that this was okay, and he was a good man.

Donnie was keeping something from her though, she could just _feel it._

She’s not completely devoid of all of her memories, and that’s her only saving grace. Since the incident, the best way to describe how things work is that all of her memories are still there, but sometimes, she wakes up and tries to recall what’s going on, and it’s like an immediate 404 error. It takes a while when this happens for these memories to repopulate back into something she can fully recall.

Within the last two years, there’s only been three situations that really threw her off: one being remembering the way she got into MMA, the second was a huge debate that lasted about three days when she argued Juanita _down_ about who wrote the majority of her first CD, and the last one was about two months ago - when she and Mary Anne Creed had a long discussion about how they first met, back when Donnie first decided to make the move from LA all the way back to the east coast, to Brooklyn.

But nothing has really thrown her for a loop like this has. Something that pulls her into him, because it’s instinctive, it’s safe - it feels _right,_ despite the little bit of hesitancy she’s still trying to shake off. Nothing’s wrong with what she’s doing. If it was, she wouldn’t still be here.

Venus can’t recall the nature of their relationship together in full, and it’s not what she wanted to spend her weekend doing, honestly. She knows they’re into each other. Social Media did an amazing job of reminding her of that once she got back into it, and once more when she looked at her instagram and twitter feeds. The results are inconclusive - the page seems to be newer, and not really updated _that much_ but, she knows she’s into him. Her behavior and the way he plays off of everything she’s said or done since he sat in front of her today has told her that.

And, they slept together. She can’t see herself sleeping with anyone else, honestly, she can’t even pull a name of importance out from anywhere. There’s a comfort here. Shit, she even thought that they were _married,_ so there’s something there that’s more than just _friends_.

Her text messages remind her that her friends are delicate about things, to this day. When they bring up Donnie, they don’t pry too deeply into what he’s doing or who he’s doing it with anymore, much like the people she follows online, but they keep tabs on her. She’s seen pictures of them together, extremely close, online, in her phone, and knows there’s several in her apartment, and knows since that they aren’t married like she assumed, that they’re definitely not just _friends._

They can’t be. Even that is a blurred line.

She knows, to an extent, that Juanita knows there’s something going on too, and is going to feel some kind of way when the shit hits the fan, if it hasn’t already. The response she got back on snapchat was simply, _“ask Donnie…”_ and that was it. She hasn’t seen her in a few days, and opted not to go to Anguilla with her, so, she’s not really sure how’s the conversation going to be when they do finally talk face to face.

Reaching out to her on Snapchat didn’t really give her the immediate response that she wanted, but she wasn’t going to overthink that. “ _Lost Boy”_ plays over the sound system from a nearby cafe, Juanita’s first single, as Donnie looks at her, eyebrow up, and smiles as she sings the whole thing and follows close behind him.

 **“You’re quiet. What’s on your mind?”** He asks, pulling her close to him for a second, and getting her to look at him.

 **“Us. We’re like this all the time, huh?”** Venus looks to her right, where Adonis holds her hand gently, and he chuckles.

 **“‘Bout… seventy five percent of the way, I’d say. Only ‘cause the rest of the time, you’re trying not to beat my ass when your gloves are on,”** Donnie smiled, as she swatted at him.

 **“But, that doesn’t matter though, ‘cause, you love me. I’m your closest, best friend, you know this. And, if you ever try to fight me on it, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause I know how to disarm you. I know your weak spots.”** Donnie squeezed her tightly against her ribs, and Venus’ head fell back against his shoulders, and he kissed her neck gently, and then her lips.

Her body reacted instantly, arching against him. He doesn’t respond; she can tell there’s an apology itching to come out, but he waits to see her response before he says anything.

**“That’s one of ‘em.”**

**“Ugh, fuck, you... ugh,”** She laughs, turning, and locking eyes with him. **“Shouldn’t be able to disarm me like this all the time, damnit.”**

 **“Wellllll. You’ve always said I was a good kisser,”** He insists, and she thinks about it for a second.

She nods then, a challenge, and presses her lips against his, testing it out. It’s obviously something she can do, and he lets her. Venus expected to feel nothing from it, as simple as it was, but she _felt everything,_ and caressed his biceps as she held on to him, and his hands wrapped around her waist, and squeezed her there until one dropped, and slid up into her hair. She pulled away first, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and cursed.

 **“Shiiiit, V.”** Donnie stepped back, and Venus slowly licked her lips, in a daze.

**“Kiss me like that again, and we won’t make it off of this sidewalk.”**

Being on the streets of Vegas, close like this, kissing him like this, flashes through her mind or a minute. It makes her smile at him, and she presses her lips close to his ear, hands caressing his biceps again.

 **“We’re not in Vegas anymore, Mr. Johnson-Creed.”** Venus insisted, making his eyebrow raise, and his hand to grip hers tightly. She smiled at him, and he smiled back.

 **“Can I show you something? It’s a reason for this walk,”** He asked, as she nodded quickly.

**“I’ll go anywhere that you want me to.”**

…

Suzume was a quick walk basically up the street, but as soon as they stopped in front of it, Venus chuckled as she turned towards Adonis and damn near toppled him as she turned too quickly, bumping into him.

 **“Oh shit,”** She smiled, looking at him.

As soon as she saw the exterior, she just _knew_ where she was, and why he brought her there. This was a subtle attempt to jog her memory, and it helped exponentially. Venus couldn’t stop smiling as she looked at him, as he patiently waited for her to explain what she was recalling.

 **“I remember this place! They have the bomb ass Hawaiian fried chicken rice bowl, and you brought me here… you wanted to eat out of my shit, and I told you no, and when your ramen came, you were like, ‘fuck no, we eat together or we don’t eat at all,’ and I was like, this nigga rude as fuck...”** Venus scoffed softly as Donnie laughed and licked his lips as he nodded.

 **“That was our actual first date.”** She hit his shoulder, and he nodded and narrowed her eyes at him. He closed the gap between the two of them, and looked him up and down, and pressed her lips together in a firm line.

 **“So… this is what you brought me up here for?”** She asked, and he shook his head.

 **“Actually, nah, but… I’m glad you’re coming to. But, c’mon, this way.”** He forked his head down the street, and she followed, hit with familiarity as she followed him.

Slowly but surely, like he told her, things were coming back to her. As they walked up to the residential entrance of one of his old hang outs, Venus surprised herself by bumping him to the side and hitting the number 8 on the directory before he could.

 **“Who is it?”** Tony’s voice inquired, and Venus smirked.

 **“Yo, Lil’ Duke, it’s us! V and Donnie,”** She called out, and seconds later, heard the magnetic unlocking of the door.

She knew where she was going, and he followed her without questioning any of her moves. She got up to the door marked with the number eight, and knocked four times before the door was open, and she was met by Tony, who chuckled as he opened the door.

**“Someone ain’t got a hangover today, huh?”**

**“Not anymore,”** She pushed her way into the apartment, and slapped his arm as Adonis followed quietly behind, and closed the door.

**“Thought you’d be still out of it. How was breakfast?”**

**“It was nice. He still doesn’t want to let me spend my own money, but that’s on him.”**

Venus rolled tension out of her shoulders as she smiled at the hangout; there wasn’t much here, but it was comfortable. This was her workout space, the place where she remembered getting her humble beginnings from just fighting her way through the small circuit street fights to actually being a force in the MMA. There was a tape-line octagon on the floor, floor mats, a heavy bag, a human punching bag, and a couple of speed bags waiting to be punched.

There was a couch, a flat screen, little table, and little kitchenette to the side. Venus’ eyes immediately drew to the corkboard that took up a large majority of one of the walls that wasn’t windows, and smiled as she walked up to it. A timeline of Donnie’s post LA life was there, intermingling with her come up from the streets to the octagon.

From her first fight to the last, he was there. From the headlines that led to his divorce, to his brief thing with Juanita, to a couple that made her lean forward, and chuckle as she looked back at him, everything was there for her to retrace. There were things she contributed too, things she got a laugh out of. There were little pinned up bullshit gossip headlines, and screenshots from the internet.

She needed to see this.

Something snapped, then.

She stood there for a while, just looking, taking it all in, and shaking her head after she felt like she’d seen enough. She had. Venus walked over to the little island in the kitchenette and sat at it, while watching the two men eye her wearily.

 **“Y’all ain’t been here in a few days. What’s up?”** Tony asked, as Venus shrugged.

 **“I’m following Donnie,”** Venus looked at the man who stood against the wall, weakly punching a speed bag with his bare hands. **“He brought me here. What we doin’ here, Donnie?”**

 **“I just wanted to y’know, come and kick it a little bit… well, watch you kick it.”** He motioned towards the human punching bag, and Venus narrowed her gaze at him.

**“You wanna see if I still got it.”**

**“I do.”** He insisted, and she side eyed him.

 **“We ain’t worked out in a few days V. I was thinkin’ we could go change, beat his ass, and go back home after this?”** He rattled off, reaching to grab some gloves.

 **“What’re you going to do when I have you on your ass again?”** She asked, as Tony whistled from his spot across the room.

**“I’ll pay you back for it later.”**

He threw her a familiar pair of purple gloves and she licked her lips as she stared at the human punching bag, and then back at him. This felt like a test, a challenge - he wanted to see if she still had it, and she did. She knew she did.

 **“I didn’t think I’d be getting all sweaty and shit today, Donnie. You said put on something cute, motherfucka…”** Venus scrunched up her face, and he chuckled.

**“You’ll be fine, I promise.”**

**“You owe me. Better be lucky I know I can change here.”** She rolled her eyes as he winked at her.

**“Less flirting, more fighting, please.”**

…

She always could fight. If there was one thing Venus knew how to do, it was to _really_ beat someone’s ass. Initially, it was just the only way she knew how to really handle herself. Much like he was when Mary Anne got her hands on him, Venus could relate to Adonis’ anger and temper. She knew how her temper could be, how she used to snap, and how it would be smarter to channel the anger into something else.

She was always fast on her feet. This was Brooklyn; she could find some old man to teach her Kung Fu as long as she would sit through the countless movies from the time, and that wasn’t bad. Muay Thai came with full fledged interest after watching Ong-Bak. She wanted to learn everything that wasn’t just how to punch someone in the face, and mean it.

Then there was Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Capoeira. Kickboxing. Judo. Aikido. TaeKwondo. If it was interesting, she wanted to learn how to do it. She wanted to master it. She was going to be able to protect herself no matter where she was, or who was around her.

She appreciated her ability to never forget how to do this. Swift kicks. Upper kicks. Low kicks. Kicks to the chest, kicks to the face, nothing blocked. It’s as therapeutic as it is necessary. He knows if anything were to happen like it did last time, there would be no room for a brief second of hesitation.

She had beaten the fuck out of the human punching bag until she felt the familiar buzzing feeling in her thighs and legs, and had broken out in a sheen of sweat. It got her into a mood that set her up for wanting to keep going, so she did, and looked around, trying to quickly figure out what to do next.

It only took seconds for him to shift the position from manning the punching bag, to feeling the need to spar with her, just to see where her head was.

 **“Just remember this is to help you and not harm you.”** Donnie insisted, and she nodded as she put the gloves back on.

Once he was standing in front of her though, no longer the man who was her best friend, her closest friend, a lover -- she just wanted to fight, and saw nothing but the trauma that brought them to the ins and outs that they’d been enduring for the last two years.

Trauma is a fucked up thing. It’s ingrained in the memories she doesn’t want to think about. She wants to never be caught up in it again. She recalls every moment of that night and doesn’t bring it back up. All she can feel when she thinks too hard about it is that moment, when it shifted. When everything changed, and there was nothing she could do.

Defending herself was instinctive. He was never going to let her forget that.

 **“Be ready.”** Tony insists, as she stares forward.

 **“Over the shoulder,”** He warns, and she flips Donnie onto the mat with ease. Her mind goes back to the alley, that night, and she’s there again.

 **“Behind you,”** He calls out next, and she drops him with a low kick, without wondering how much pain he can take on or feel. He’s a boxer. He’ll be okay. She can’t go easy - shouldn’t go easy.

 **“High,”** He swings a hit, and she blocked him, and drops him to his knees.

 **“Watch your head,”** He calls out, and she does, dodging a swing from a soft foam bat, and snatching it from him to stun him in the chest with it.

 **“Good,”** Tony exhales as Venus stretches her hand out to help Donnie up from the floor.

The hesitation in her pull doesn’t last long when she immediately blocks a hit she didn’t think he would throw, and she pushes him back, causing him to stagger a few feet away.

 **“Watch yourself,”** Tony warns, as she elbows him, and pushes him off again.

Venus steels down hard as she jabs him with the bat again, hitting his head, shoulder, shoulder hard, and then she exhales, and pushes him back against the one side of the semi-padded walls with a huff.

Back in the alley in Vegas, it was a dumpster. By now, her head would be bleeding, but the ability to fight would still be there. He’d be at her back, literally, back to back with her, and his hands would be balled up in fists, his eye thick and blackening. He’d be bruised but not broken, but almost.

It’s a little too much almost, and she has to remind herself that this is okay, and they’ll be good once this is over.

 **“Fuck,”** She exhales and steps back, giving him space, and watching him.

She keeps her eyes on him for just a second before flipping him over her back again, and throwing him off of her. It doesn’t take but a second before she gets up, cursing softly, and pushes him off again. He keeps coming, and he’s expected to. She anticipates it. He pushes back and gives her space, just for a second, and she looks at him, keeping her hands up, stepping to the side when he comes in, and aggressively blocks every hit, and catches any open spots with her immediate instincts.

She threw straight punches, trying to knock his head back, and when she did, that was the only time in which she stopped. She threw her knee up to knock him out fully, and watched him wince.

She couldn't do it.

instinct was yelling at her to finish him, knock him out completely, but this isn't one of those fights. This isn't the kind of fight. There's no reason for her to harm him - she cares for him. She loves him. This is her closest, her _best_ friend. She can't do this to him. She can't keep on fighting, spar or not. Venus pulled back again and threw up her hands to surrender, and pulled off her gloves, and then the headgear.

 **“You done?”** Donnie asks, and she nods, panting. He glances at her, eyebrow up.

**“You sure?”**

**“I’m done. Can we just get out of here?”**

**“Yeah, we’ll go get showered and get out of here. I promise.”**


End file.
